


pleasin' season

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baking, Hand Jobs, Kitchen Sex, M/M, it's thirst thirstiest time of the year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: Baz rolls his eyes as the song starts. Baz is always rolling his eyes, but he's let me choose the music now and I've been kind of obsessed with this song since Shepherd first played it for me. He's got an interesting music taste, Shep does. I'm not sure if it's good, exactly, but I usually enjoy the songs that he shows me. I'm not sure if I've got a very good taste in music either, though, so.---AKA, The One Where They Get Off In The Kitchen This TIme
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 194





	pleasin' season

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this the other night and hadn't initially meant for anyone to read it but Ash and Icarus but here we are
> 
> this was lowkey 'beta'd' by like the whole nsfw section of the carry on discord, so thank you to everyone over there that read it and didn't hate it, now it's here. 
> 
> song mentioned in the fic is Stupid by Ashnikko, the title comes from the song, too

Baz rolls his eyes as the song starts. Baz is always rolling his eyes, but he's let me choose the music now and I've been kind of obsessed with this song since Shepherd first played it for me. He's got an interesting music taste, Shep does. I'm not sure if it's good, exactly, but I usually enjoy the songs that he shows me. I'm not sure if I've got a very good taste in music either, though, so. 

Anyway, Baz is rolling his eyes but he keeps them trained on his dough. We're baking biscuits. Well, I'm baking biscuits and Baz is trying to follow my steps and bake  _ something _ as well. I love Baz, and he's good at quite a lot, but we've discovered that baking is not on that list. But he wants to try, because he wants to take some biscuits home with him for the holiday because Daphne is always sending him home with some. I'm more than happy to help him with that. Though, as soon as the song starts I'm a bit distracted. 

If I'm honest, something about this song gets me well riled up sometimes. Especially when I'm already near Baz, who also gets me hot without even doing anything. I look over at him, he's mixing all of his ingredients together in a bowl. I think he's skipped a step, he was meant to mix the wet ingredients together before combining them with the dry, but it's not going to hurt his batter that bad so I don't say anything. Instead I watch the muscle in his arm as he stirs. He's got his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and this look of sheer determination on his face. 

I so badly want to snog him. 

I know we should focus on the baking. But it's not like the batter is going to go  _ bad _ if we were to have a...  _ detour _ . 

I start muttering along to the lyrics, and I kind of wish that Baz would make eye contact with me. I think he's actively  _ avoiding _ looking at me, actually. I don’t realize it at first, but I’ve started moving my hips along to the beat, mostly a side-to-side sway. He’s staring at his batter so hard I’m afraid he might accidentally light it on fire somehow. And then I notice the flush, the light pink tinge to his cheeks. (He’d just fed before we started baking, he’s got enough blood in him now to turn his face a dull rosy red.) 

“ _ I know you think about me in the shower _ .” 

I bump my hip into his, stifling a laugh at the way he startles. And then I’ve got an idea. I abandon my own batter on the counter and move behind Baz, press myself flush to his back and hook my chin over his shoulder, at first just wrapping my arms around his waist. I feel him tense, but I’m not convinced it’s a bad tensing, because I also feel him lean back into me. 

“ _ Think about me with your hand in your trousers _ .” 

My mouth is by his ear, and this would probably be better if I were the taller one, but I’ve always learned to work with what I’ve got. I move one hand down from his waist, across the front of his trousers where I can already feel him half-hard in his pants. 

“Snow.” His voice is quiet, almost a warning, if it didn’t waver right there at the end. He’s stopped stirring his batter now, too, palms pressed flat on either side of the bowl as if he needs to hold himself up. I grip his waist again and turn him around, I need to see his face. 

His face is flushed, and when he does meet my eyes he looks hungry. Like he wants to eat me alive, and if I’m honest, I’d let him. I press myself against him again, still rolling my hips along to the beat but now flush against his, and rest my hands on his shoulders. Baz lets out this soft little whimper right in my ear and it shoots through me, spurs me on to press my lips to his neck and start licking and nipping down the line of his throat. 

“ _ I know you’re salivating over me, sir, nipples through the t-shirt. _ ” 

My hands trail down his chest and he makes another soft sound as I graze a nipple through the fabric of his shirt. I reach the bottom of his shirt and shove my hands beneath it, pushing it back up as I run my palms across his skin, back up to his chest where I turn a nipple between my fingers. 

Baz gasps and thrusts his hips against me, his voice is strained when he tries to speak up again. “Snow, the  _ biscuits _ .” 

“Fuck the biscuits, Baz.” I mutter, leaning up to press our mouths together. He doesn’t argue anymore, instead opening his mouth under mine and bringing his hands up to my hips. He steers us further from the counter, which is probably for the best, what with all the open ingredients spread around. 

Baz crowds me against the refrigerator, his mouth dropping to my neck, copying what I had been doing to him just moments ago. My head drops back against the cold metal as Baz’s teeth scrape over my pulse point, one of his hands is squeezing my hip and the other has come up to cup the back of my head. Neither of them are touching me where I really want him to. 

“Baz,” I gasp out, and he hums against my skin before biting down at the curve where my neck and shoulder meet. (With his regular teeth, not his fangs.) (My cock twitches at the thought of him biting me there with his  _ fangs _ .) (I’m not sure that’s quite the regular reaction, but maybe it’s something we’ll need to explore later.) “Baz, love,  _ please _ touch me.” 

“I  _ am _ touching you,” Baz murmurs, and I can  _ hear _ his smirk as he says it. He squeezes my hip tighter as if to prove his point. I just want to take his hand and shove it down my pants at this point, I’m feeling very impatient. 

So, I do that. I reach down and undo my own jeans, then take Baz’s hand and guide it past my waistband. 

“Getting right to the point today, are we, Snow?” 

“Really wish you would, honest _ ly - fuck _ .”

Baz wraps his fingers around me and I let out a low moan, back arching off the fridge as his hand moves quickly over me. 

“Wait, wait,  _ wait _ .” Baz stops, pulling back to look at me, concerned. “N-no, nothing wrong, I just - uhm, can I - ?” I drop my hand down to the top of his jeans, tugging at the waist. “Wanna touch you, too. Wanna - ”

“ - you wanna jerk each other off against the refrigerator?” 

“Doesn’t sound quite as hot when you put it like that, but yeah.” 

Baz is fighting back a smile, I can tell, but he reaches down to undo his own trousers and then I’m taking him into my own hand and he’s moving his over me again. Then his mouth is on mine again, though our kisses are sloppier now. More teeth and tongue than anything else, and quickly devolving to just breathing hot and heavy into each other’s mouths. I think that’s hotter than it has a right to be, if I’m honest, but the rush of Baz’s warm breath against my lips as he groans and whines is spurring me on more. My hips are bucking up into his hand, and he’s pressing me harder against the refrigerator, and I’m only vaguely aware of a song switching over and the lyrics ‘ _ dead mom _ ’ repeating before I’m falling over the edge. 

Baz is coming just a few moments later, and we stroke each other through our orgasms until we’re spent, still leaning against the fridge. Baz’s breath is hot on my neck as his breathing slowly evens back out, and after a few moments of quiet I can’t help but start laughing. 

“What’re you laughing at?” Baz asks, and I shake my head. 

“Penny would murder us if she found out about this,” I say, and then start laughing again. Baz stares at me for a moment, but then he falls into a fit of laughter, too, leaning into me even more and tucking his face into my neck. 

Well, now I’ll have even more reason for that song to get me hot when it comes on. And quite possibly even the  _ Beetlejuice  _ soundtrack, which I realize has been playing for the past few autoplay songs. 


End file.
